An Affair of the Heart Read Free Page B

his friend replied. Then he walked to the center of the room, dumped the three cards that were in the hat on the floor, handed the hat to Rex, and ushered him to the door.
    Once alone, Claymore felt very much like bawling, but he called for his housekeeper instead, and in a fierce tone demanded to know why he had not been handed the Morning Observer with his breakfast, and felt very foolish when she pointed out that it had been put on the table and he had not picked it up.
    “Well, see that it doesn’t happen again,” he said.
    His poor servant hardly knew whether she was to refrain from having it in the breakfast room at all, or to personally place it in his hands, and she frowned at him in perplexity.
    “That will be all,” his lordship said in a voice nearer normal, which did not enlighten her very much, but at least informed her that he “was getting over his snit.”
     

Chapter Two
     
    It was arranged that the two would set out early for the Abbey, Homberly’s ancestral home in Surrey, just north of the Sussex border. But somehow it was very late in the morning before they eventually got away, and between stopping for luncheon and wasting the better part of an hour on a wager to determine which of the two could down a glass of ale faster, it was just turning dark when they tooled their curricles into the drive that led to the Abbey.
    They were both a trifle foxed, as it had taken some six bottles to ascertain that Rex could consume his drink nineteen seconds faster than his friend. Rex, however, was not so foxed as to fail to welcome the news that his parents were dining out. Cut up devilish stiff would his mama if he landed home anything but cold stone sober. He was wonderfully happy to know he need not curtail his drinking, for the parents were at Ashton Manor, five miles away, and were as well staying for a game of cards, too, it was unlikely he would see them before midnight
    Therefore, he and Clay might have as many bottles of wine as they pleased cracked open, lift their hessian-clad feet to the table (no need even to change for dinner), and proceed to become as drunk as wheelbarrows. This pastime was engaged in, upon this occasion, to drown Clay’s sorrow at losing the Rose. He had scarcely been sober since her refusal the day before. The preceding evening they had dined alone at Claymore House in London, as Clay was feeling too disgraced to visit any party when it was four pence to a groat Miss Golden would be there, decorating the arm of her old goat.
    By the time they had finished the second bottle of claret, Lord Claymore had the marvelous idea of presenting himself that very night to his new beloved, Miss Wanda Wanderley.
    “Not the thing, Clay,”Rex was still sober enough to reply. “Too late. Damme, it’s ten o’clock.”
    “Damme yourself, she wouldn’t be in bed at ten o’clock. Nobody goes to bed at ten o’clock.”
    “Yes, but we ain’t there,” Rex argued. “They live in Sussex, you know. This is Surrey.”
    “You said they live next door. Remember distinctly,” Clay pronounced, not very distinctly.
    “That’s because Surrey turns into Sussex about a quarter of a mile down the road. Another foot of land and Papa could boast he had estates in two counties. Don’t though. We stop at the border, and Wanderley owns Sussex.”
    “Must be devilish rich. I never knew Wanderley owned Sussex. East and West Sussex?”
    “Dash it, Clay, you’re bosky. I didn’t say he owned Sussex.”
    “Dash it, you’re foxed yourself. Course you did. Just said it. Ask anyone.”
    Rex looked around the table obediently. “Know what, Clay? Ain’t nobody here to ask. We’re all alone.”
    “The devil you say!” Clay answered, also looking around. “By Jove, you’re right. All alone. All alone,” he repeated forlornly. “I’m sick of being all alone, Rex. Going to meet Miss Wanderley.”
    “No, are you though?”Rex asked with interest, as the fumes rose to his head. “Know where she